


OTK

by Kamu



Series: Solely a Pair [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Humor, Knee Pads, Leggings, M/M, thigh appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamu/pseuds/Kamu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discovering the truth to Bokuto's apparently stylish practice attire via Akaashi's reaction post summer training camp arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	OTK

Lately, Bokuto has been feeling like Akaashi has been avoiding his gaze, especially after the summer camp with Karasuno.

Examples are such as:

Looking down when Bokuto is talking to him.

Looking down while Bokuto is talking to someone else.

Looking down and not at Bokuto when they’re playing.

Looking down, catching his eye, and looking away.

This only happens when they have practice. They don’t see each other during school often, so maybe it’s something he did during that time? He has trouble remembering how many ideas that backfired during the training camp, but they are numerous enough to make even him worried one of them had ticked off the setter.

He asks the others while their group is stretching if they knew what was up with Akaashi and if he needed the top-five-in-the-nationals Bokuto Koutarou for help. Akaashi had joined the first group who had gone ahead of them to do their laps around the campus.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Konoha says, waving a hand in rejection of his idea. “You might be the cause of 99 percent of his problems on the team, though.”

“You just barely missed being in the top three,” Komi pipes in, echoing Akaashi's comment from the training camp.

“Geh?!” Bokuto gawks in disbelief. “Then what about the one percent?”

“That’s right,” Sarukui quips. “Obviously, it’s spent thinking about self-improvement. Remember Karasuno’s setter in that last match? Akaashi acknowledged him as top grade in terms of raw skill.”

“Really?” Bokuto recalls how Akaashi had dismissed his attempt at firing him up after the quick strike Karasuno’s setter and little Hinata pulled. Akaashi had looked thoughtful and his eyes had lidded fractionally as he watched them. “Could he need reassurance from the captain that he’s still the best setter for our team?”

“Why does it always gotta be about you,” Onaga mutters quietly to the side.

“Ask him,” Konoha prompts. “It’s better that way.”

“Yeah, it could be that he’s finally done putting up with you,” Sarukui jokes.

“Oi, he might take you seriously!” Komi shushes Sarukui in panic.

They look to where Bokuto has a hand to his chin, pondering their advice. The expressions on his face transition from close eyed contemplation, to pouting concern, and then lastly to wide eyed realization.

“Thanks, guys.” Bokuto waves and quickly takes off to head start his laps, already finished with his stretches. “I get it now.”

They watch him disappear down the path, an ominous feeling growing in their hearts. Bokuto had looked more resigned than happy, his shoulders drooping and a subdued frown on his face.

_Did we actually make it worse?_

 

Bokuto grips Akaashi’s wrist before he gathers his things to change. Akaashi tilts his head questioningly.

“What is it, Bokuto-san?”

He doesn’t know how to start. ‘Do you not like me anymore?’ or ‘Should I disappear for a while until you’re feeling better?’ probably wouldn’t do. It might sound a bit egoselfish of him if he said that to Akaashi who tends to point out his dumb moments.

So, he waits until the other members leave. A few of them lag behind until Konoha roughly ushers them out the door.

They’re alone, at last.

“Is it about what happened earlier? Don’t worry, even if you messed up that last move, everyone thinks you’re the best,” Akaashi assures, placantly. He pointedly looks to where they are still touching.

Bokuto releases his wrist slowly. “Hey, Akaashi…” He trails off. His mind blanks, all he had planned to say beforehand going straight out the window.

“Yes?”

Bokuto can sense Akaashi is paying attention to him now. Frustration bubbles up and he has the urge to scream and shout at the vice-captain.

“You’re doing that again!” He looks up as Akaashi tilts his chin down and their eyes meet halfway. The setter looks away first.

“Doing what?”

“Not looking me in the eye!” Bokuto cries and turns his back to him to crouch on the floor. “If you don’t like me anymore, just say so!”

After a few moments of silence, Bokuto peeks over his shoulder to see if Akaashi had gone and left him there. What if his outburst had blown him off, and Akaashi hated him for sure? He doesn’t know what he would do if he did.

The setter is rooted in the same spot, one hand outstretched toward him and his free hand scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. His eyes are trained on the gym doors but Bokuto knows he’s really focused on him.

“I’m sorry for any misunderstandings,” he murmurs softly, “but it’s nothing you did. It kind of is, but it’s also my fault for letting it get to me. It’s stupid.”

“What are you saying?” Bokuto sniffs and takes his hand. He pulls him up.

“Let me ask you something first," Akaashi says, his eye concentrated on something below him.

“Okay,” he nods. If it would let him understand why his vice-captain had been avoiding him all week, then anything is fine.

Akaashi points to his thighs. “Are those leggings?” he asks, his default expression unchanging. It’s difficult to tell if he’s joking or serious.

“N-no?” To say that he, Bokuto Koutarou, was thrown off by such a question out from the dark was an understatement. “They’re long knee pads.”

Akaashi hums noncommitally as he stares at Bokuto’s legs, particularly near the line where his shorts and knee pads met. He can feel himself warm a little, but he could amount that up to exertion from practice.

“Is that all?” Bokuto asks. He ducks his head to peer at Akaashi and is surprised to see a little flush dusting on his cheeks. “Oh? What’s this?”

The setter slaps his hands against his face abruptly. “Don’t mind,” he mutters, his squashed cheeks muffling his words.

“Ohoho?” Now Bokuto is interested. “Have you been ogling my thighs all this time? It’s true that these slim my legs down a lot—”

“What are we, shopping at a department store?” Akaashi interrupts, blandly. “I was thinking about how far they reach.” He’s referring to the knee pads.

Bokuto lifts the ends of his shorts to check. “I guess this high?” He looks to Akaashi for approval. What he finds is more than that.

Akaashi has both hands covering his face and is in the middle of rotating away from him. He can tell from what is shown that there is a full on blush raging on his cheeks.

This is not the reaction he expected from the stoic setter Akaashi who almost never laughs, let alone show the rare smile (everyone else calls them smirks. Bokuto thinks otherwise, because Akaashi loves volleyball as much as he does). To see him reduced (or raised; leveled; whatever the word, it was a good look on him) to a puddle of embarrassment was not on his list of things to experience.

Well, now it is. Check that off as done.

“Okay, I had no idea. Have you always been this kind of person? Do you have a thing for thighs? Is it my thighs in particular? Because I have plenty of shorts that would be illegal anywhere else that isn’t volleyball related. Wait, is part of the reason you joined volleyball because the surplus of thighs? I totally get that, I mean, even the taller guys have some pretty nice quads. Yo, Akaashi? Akaashi?” Bokuto rambles on.

“Please, stop talking,” Akaashi orders and narrows his eyes at him. His blush has more or less settled, but he probably doesn’t feel safe enough to show his face. “None of those are the reason.”

“So?” Bokuto cocks his head to the side.

Akaashi is silent until he speaks and glares at the ajar door. “ _Leave_.”

Bokuto thinks for a second that he’s talking to him, until he hears an indignant squeak and a shuffling of shoes.

Ah. Eavesdroppers. The setter glares at the door until someone gently shuts it closed.

“As you were saying.” Bokuto gentlemanly waves his hand to allow him to continue.

Akaashi's hands awkwardly fall loose to his sides as he heaves a sigh. “You want to know the truth? Why I’m so...like this?” Akaashi inquires. The space between his eyebrows are scrunching up.

Bokuto nods furiously. “Hell yeah.”

He sighs again. “Your knee pads...they look like…” Akaashi mumbles something unintelligible.

“Huh?” Bokuto leans closer.

“They look like thigh high socks!” Akaashi uncharacteristically raises his voice and it echoes across the empty gym.

There’s a beat of silence. Bokuto breaks it by asking in confusion.

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

Akaashi uncomprehendingly shoots him a look.

“What.”

“Knee pads or thigh highs? You just like thighs, right?”

“I guess,” Akaashi admits.

“Good!” Bokuto straightens and sticks a thumb proudly to his chest. “Let me be your go-to guy whenever you want a pair of thighs to ogle, ‘kay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the setter says. Again, the expressionless thing makes it hard to determine if he’s serious or not.

 _Actually, that’s kinda hot_ , Bokuto remarks silently. _Who knew_.

“Let’s go get changed,” Akaashi suggests. “You stink.”

Which reminds him. “Hey, you should have noticed that I wore knee pads when we change, right?” he asks. “Especially after two years.”

Akaashi’s face screws up fractionally. “I never look at anyone when we change. It’s. Not,” he explains haltingly, “good for my imagination.”

“Mm-hmm.” So many things to learn about his precious vice-captain today. “As your dependable senpai, ace, and captain, allow me to indulge in your kinky secrets and carry your burdens. That’s what one of the top five would say, no?”

“Yes, of course, Bokuto-san,” the setter encourages without a glance at him.

"You're just saying that aren't you?" Bokuto pouts, throwing his sports bag over his shoulder.

"No way, Ace-san," Akaashi says monotonously as he heads to the door. "You are so amazing."

"Hmph." He feels gradually better, Akaashi's lack of enthusiasm aside. "I'm glad you think so. And Akaashi?"

He pauses in the open doorway and makes direct eye contact for the first time all week. Bokuto can't stop the smirk from spreading.

"Would you prefer me wearing actual over the knee socks or you yourself?"

The nonchalant smack upside the head is worth the quickly uttered "Either" for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I reread the manga after finding out those leggings aren't leggings at all but long knee pads? And discovering they just barely reach to his shorts to show that small sliver of skin?  
> Me, too, Akaashi, me too.  
> Edit:  
> After reading the extra chapter featuring Fukurodani (+uniforms), I conclude Akaashi gets changed lightning fast just to avoid overexposure to his teammates' thighs.  
> Edit2:  
> I don't even know anymore, are they long knee pads or leg compressors under knee pads?! Mystery of the century????!?


End file.
